The Grim Cellar

1997, US, Directed by Harmony Korine

Colour, Running Time: 89 minutes

DVD, Region 1, New Line, Video: Anamorphic 1.85:1, Audio: Dolby Digital Stereo

It’s quite difficult to informatively describe what the Gummo experience is like unless the reader has already immersed themselves in its grim realm, partially because it has no specific plot as such (at least in terms of conventional cinema narrative), partially because the images and sounds burnt on to celluloid speak louder than explanatory words ever can. The viewer is dropped hard on their ass into a location somewhere in smalltown America, populated by unsophisticated people that may as well be of extraterrestrial origin, such is the utter unfamiliarity of their behaviour. We spend time following around two teenage boys - Tummler and Solomon, one of the strangest looking children you’ve ever seen - who catch and kill cats for money, sniff glue, have sex with whoever may be willing, etc. The story depicts the activities and eccentricities of these two oddballs for the large part. Then there are two sisters on the dawn of sexual awakening, men who wrestle violently with kitchen chairs, skinhead brothers who punch two types of f**k out of each other, an enthusiastic albino girl who searches for her dream boy while blissfully ignorant to the reality of her chances, deaf people rowing with each other in sign language, a man who charges money for lads to have intercourse with his handicapped sister, a messed up transvestite boy - an ethical enigma who also kills cats for money but in his case does so to support his virtually non-functioning grandmother, etc. Oh yes, and a gay black dwarf.

This sometimes sounds on paper like the product of a banned film but Gummo’s relative obscurity has probably kept controversy at bay. Its effect is almost soul-destroying; the meaningless of people’s lives, here or perhaps anywhere, the cruelty of the world that surrounds them and their involuntary ignorance to this. Despite the near utter blackness of the movie’s material and its guerrilla, underground feel this was a serious project with a ‘proper’ film crew, a real studio behind distribution, actual funding (over one million dollars), and some talented actors. That’s right: actors. You’d swear from the convincing performances on display that all here were real people the director had found, being granted the privilege of filmed glimpses into their sporadically horrifying lives. But, while there are no major stars here of course and the majority of participants were inexperienced from a film perspective, there are quite a few established and professional actors contributing portrayals that you wouldn’t have believed them to be capable of, so realistic are their character depictions. My favourite amongst them is Chloë Sevigny. She’d already appeared in the same director’s previous film Kids, plus the rather smart Steve Buscemi project Trees Lounge and, surely as a testament to her talent, has since gone on to skilfully bring fantastic characters to the screen in American Psycho, Broken Flowers, and Dave Fincher’s Zodiac. At the time I first saw Gummo a few years ago I really believed she was somebody who came from one of these nasty small American towns (I’m sure they’re not all like this, honest!). Similar can be said of most of the occupants of this little world however and consequently the film almost gives the impression of a documentary into daily human life. Some of its brutalities are appropriately supported by extreme metal music though the soundtracks is surprisingly varied - how on earth did they obtain permission to use Madonna’s Like a Prayer here? Elsewhere we have everything from Roy Orbison and Johann Sebastian Bach to Bethlehem and Burzum. The soundtrack also claims to have utilised Bathory’s blistering Equimanthorn (from Under The Sign…) at some point but I’ll be damned if I can hear it anywhere. Anyway, the music is well selected and enhances the onscreen action just as it should. I do dislike the film’s irreverent attitude towards animals (though activity was professionally monitored), however aside from that personal gripe I think Harmony Korine can only be described as a director with an acute perceptiveness uncommon in humankind. Or perhaps he simply refuses to ignore that which everybody refuses to face.

New Line’s DVD looks superb, though bearing in mind some of the imagery was deliberately captured with gritty videotape it otherwise feels much more upmarket than it should. Extras are limited to some behind-scenes photographs with commentary, and filmographies. Gummo is nothing less than a vision of Hell on Earth, more frightening because places and people like this are out there somewhere and this is a diary of what a significant portion of humanity has become. You may be mortified but will likely find yourself staring on at the car-crash spectacle and even re-visiting every know and again to remind yourself that you aint so badly off after all.